


Some Like It Hot

by Crazy4Orcas



Series: When Sparks Fly AU [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: be_compromised, Don't copy to another site, Dragons, F/M, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Grinding, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4Orcas/pseuds/Crazy4Orcas
Summary: A sequel to Rescue Five of myFive Unrelated Rescues and One Reunionfic.----------Not only was she the most beautiful creature Clint had ever seen, but she washot.And getting hotter. The heat radiating off her was almost more than he could stand, but there was nothing in the world that would make him let her go, make him stop touching her.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Series: When Sparks Fly AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994491
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Fuck Yeah! Clint/Natasha Collection, be_compromised Bingo Collection





	Some Like It Hot

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie) (cassiesinsanity on tumblr) and [shenshen77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenshen77) (obishenshenobi on tumbler) for the encouragement and beta! Y'all rock!
> 
> My entry for the [be_compromised Bingo Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/be_compromised_bingo/profile) \- Alternate Universe.

Freezing rain fell thick and heavy. They were catching the brunt of the storm even through the wooded area they were traveling. The trees were denser further into the forest, offering more of a buffer against the weather, but what little they’d gain in comfort would be lost in travel time. Lucky was having a hard enough time navigating the trees and underbrush; he was forced to keep his wings folded tight against his body and occasionally bull his way past obstacles. Liho was having a better time of it, the big cat following along in Lucky’s wake although she made her displeasure with the weather known with each angry flick of her tail.

Natasha sympathized with her. While the frigid temperatures didn’t bother her - one of the perks of being a fire-sprite - she absolutely _loathed_ getting wet. Unless, of course, it was her choice and involved scented bubbles and hot water. The sleet and ice were not only coating her hair and stinging her exposed forehead, but making their path slippery and treacherous. At least she had a thin scarf to cover most of her face and neck; she could only imagine how uncomfortable Clint was in just a jacket.

She was grateful they’d been paired up on this particular mission. While she didn’t wish these horrid conditions on him, she was immensely thankful for his keen eyesight and steady, calm presence. In addition to the absolutely foul weather and slippery path he was navigating, he’d insisted on carrying the pack containing the 084 they’d retrieved for Fury. It had been strapped securely in a harness to Lucky’s back, but with the low hanging branches and the dragon’s struggles through the forest, Clint had taken the pack himself.

Quite suddenly the trees gave way to a small, grassy meadow. It was little more than a break in the forest and with the sleet coming down in thick sheets in the open area she could barely see across to the opposite tree line. But the small, crooked shack at the edge of the clearing was almost the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She couldn’t wait to go inside and get dry, but knew they had to secure shelter for the animals before they could see to themselves.

It took longer than she’d hoped, but they were able to build a serviceable lean-to against the side of the shack that was big enough for the dragon and jaguar and protected from the brunt of the sleet. Clint rolled a couple of good sized rocks into the space; Natasha used her powers to dry them off and heat them up as much as she dared. With everything so wet, fire wasn’t a risk, but she didn’t want to steam up the shelter either.

She then turned her attention to their own accommodations.

The tiny, dilapidated shack didn’t look like it would offer much in the way of warmth, but it would at least get them out of the increasingly bad weather. The territory this far north of the city was sparsely populated and Natasha considered it fortunate they’d found any shelter at all.

She pushed the door open and it made a hideous screech. Several unidentifiable creatures scurried out of sight and she repressed a shudder. Well, at the very least, it was dry. For the most part anyway; there was a steady drip in one corner and the floorboards were damp in several spots.

She shrugged out of her jacket and scarf as Clint stomped into the cabin behind her and muttered under his breath. Natasha caught the words ‘never again’ and ‘Fury’s an asshole’ but not the rest. It hardly mattered though, she couldn’t help but agree. She took a few seconds to dry out and heat up her scarf before setting it down. 

Before he could close the door on the storm outside, she stepped back out onto the stoop and pressed a hand to Lucky’s snout. The dragon waggled his haunches and tried to shuffle closer to her, but the eaves of the cabin stopped him. She called up some warmth to her hands and scratched behind the dragon’s ears before sending him to the shelter of the lean-to. The huge black jaguar wound herself around Natasha’s legs in a bid to enter the cabin, but Clint blocked her way.

“Sorry, Liho,” he said, sounding tired and worn out. “It’s too cramped in here.”

He gave her a gentle shove away from the door. The cat huffed, turned her back on him, and bounded after the dragon. She flicked her paws disdainfully, shaking the moisture off them, before gracefully leaping up onto Lucky’s foreleg where he’d settled against the back of the lean-to. She curled up against the dragon’s jaw and he arranged one of his huge wings over her so it deflected the wind and wet sleet that found its way into the shelter.

Natasha watched the snow and sleet fall for a few moments before turning back into the cabin and closing the door behind her. As she’d hoped, Clint had wrapped her discarded scarf around his neck and ears. He was stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together as he made his way around the small room. He’d lit a fluorescent mini-lamp they’d had in their supplies; the glow didn’t do much to improve the atmosphere in the shack. Dirt and dust coated everything except where the water had invaded and left a layer of mud. The pack with the 084 lay next to a table standing off kilter on three and a half legs.

“No stove for a fire,” he said, disappointment lacing his tone. “Guess it wouldn’t do much good anyway, no dry wood to be had.”

He was shivering in his leather jacket and she silently berated herself for not noticing how badly the cold was affecting him. Clint hadn’t said anything, but they’d been working together long enough that she knew he wouldn’t complain about his own discomfort.

“Clint,” she said as he made another circuit of the room. She reached out as he passed her and stopped him. “Let me help.”

He tucked his hands into his armpits, shivered, and mulishly said, “I won’t take advantage of your nature. Or you.”

Natasha sighed. He was ridiculously stubborn about a great many things, but especially so where their relationship was concerned. Ever since he’d freed her from The Collector he had been adamant about not using her for his own gain. At first she hadn’t believed him when he said he wanted her to be free to choose her own path, that she didn’t owe him for freeing her. It was at odds with his obvious desire to maintain her company.

Just as her instinct to run was at odds with the strange feeling she’d had that kept her with him.

“Am I taking advantage of your nature when I eat what you hunt and catch for us?”

“That’s different,” he snapped, the stubbornness in his tone increasing. “I’m already hunting for myself. And Lucky too.”

“It’s not taking advantage if I freely offer to help,” she snapped back at him. She took a deep breath to try to center herself; flickers of fire flared out of her fingertips as she exhaled slowly. He could exasperate her like no one else. She caught him watching her with a wary look on his face and knew he was reading her frustration. It annoyed her that she’d grown so used to his company that she’d let her guard down around him, let him see what she was feeling. To spite him, she shot a burst of fire, just a little one, at the floor between his feet.

Clint didn’t jump, didn’t even startle, just narrowed his eyes at the steam the fireball created against the damp floor and let out a frustrated sigh. She wondered how much steam would be generated if she tried drying out the floor.

“Nat, look,” he started but was interrupted by a loud, ominous cracking. They both looked anxiously up at the ramshackle ceiling. An even louder crack sounded and Clint sprang into motion like it had struck him on the ass. He dove for her and tackled her to the floor, rolling them both under the dubious shelter of the table.

The shack seemed to implode. Debris and ice rained down all around them. Natasha heard, and felt, Clint grunt as one end of the table collapsed and fell. She wrapped her arms around his head, trying to protect him as much as she could, considering he was trying to cover as much of her as he was able. She closed her eyes against the wildly swaying light and shadows caused by the mini-lamp as it was violently tossed around the room.

The silence was deafening when the shack stopped shaking and the world settled again. The next few moments seemed to stretch into an hour and nothing could be heard but the falling sleet; then a loud dragon’s trumpet rent the air and everything shook with Lucky’s footfalls.

In the dim light, Natasha could see tree branches surrounding them along with the remains of the hut. She wondered if just one tree had come down on top of them or several, it was impossible to tell. Lucky trumpeted again and she could actually hear a note of worry in the call. The table groaned above them and the branches shifted violently, which she could only guess was the dragon trying to make his way to them.

“Lucky!” Clint shouted and coughed against the still floating dust and debris. “Sit!”

There was a loud ‘harumph’ and then momentary stillness before frantic scratching and a plaintive, feline growling could be heard. The branches and table shifted again, though a little less severely.

“Liho,” Natasha called. “No.”

The scratching stopped. They heard a few more growls and then silence again as everything around them settled.

“Clint?” she asked, not caring if he could hear the concern and fear in her voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered immediately and sounded truthful. “You?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not bullshitting me, are you?”

She laughed and couldn’t help that it sounded a little hysterical, even to her own ears. “No, not bullshitting you.”

Clint shifted and grunted with the effort. He braced his hands on either side of her and strained with the effort of trying to lift himself and the debris off her. After a couple of tries with no success, he gingerly settled back down. She could feel him trembling slightly, attempting to keep his weight off her.

“Fuck,” he breathed and she shivered pleasantly as his warm breath ghosted over her neck.

She was suddenly more aware of Clint than she’d ever been; the press of his body against hers, the hard lines of his face in the shadows cast by the lingering glow of the mini-lamp, the scent of him, the stormy blue of his eyes, the rumble of his voice as he spoke – although she’d be hard pressed to recall what it was he was saying.

Well _shit_ , she thought, she couldn’t have picked a worse time to realize that she _wanted_ Clint. Wanted him desperately.

She wondered what would happen if she spread her legs and let him settle more firmly between her thighs. Would he pull away? Or would he press closer and grind against her? Which did she want more? Which scared her more, that he’d retreat … or that he’d reciprocate?

Where the hell had this overwhelming _wanting_ come from? And, dear god, why did she have such shitty timing? She had to pick now, not only in the middle of a mission, but in the middle of an emergency to start thinking about touching her partner? To start thinking about how it would feel to have him touch her, to have him run those calloused hands over her skin. To trace her fingers along his broad shoulders and down his arms. To feel his mouth pressed against hers.

“Nat,” Clint interrupted her thoughts. “You sure you’re okay? You’re … ah … getting kinda warm.”

Natasha found herself staring at his mouth, currently curved downward in a slight frown, and blinked a couple of times. She refocused her thoughts on the current situation and let the fantasy fade. There would be time later to explore these new desires. And act on them.

“Yeah,” she said and gave him a quick nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but thankfully let it drop. “Brace yourself; I’m going to try to roll off you again.”

She tensed as he shifted to the side. Dust floated down as what was left of the table above them creaked and shuddered. Clint paused his turn as the table threatened to completely collapse. “Shit,” he hissed.

He settled down against her again and Natasha fought the urge to grind up into him. The instinct to press herself along his length nearly overwhelmed her. She couldn’t understand how something that hadn’t ever crossed her mind before could now be so all-consuming. God, she needed to get a grip on this _thing_ and concentrate on getting them out of this mess.

 _Then_ she could focus on getting him naked and having her way with him.

She took a deep breath and refocused her thoughts.

“I have an idea,” she said hesitantly and braced herself for his reply as she saw his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“No.”

“Clint.” She didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice or expression.

“No,” he said, more forcefully this time. “We’ll find another way.”

“It’s not your call, Barton,” she said and put as much steel into her words as she could.

There was a long moment where he just stared into her eyes; she could see the regret and apology in his expression. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“I do,” she whispered and poked him in the ribs, making him jump. “You’re making this up to me later.”

“Anything you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Natasha took a couple of deep breaths and clenched her fists. “Don’t crush me.”

She felt Clint tense and hold his weight off her.

Natasha went to the place in her mind where her power was centered and focused on tapping into that power. She imagined it expanding, growing and flowing through her until it consumed every fiber of her being. Then she pictured it instantaneously snapping back into her mind.

As usual, the pain was excruciating as her body shrank, but she bit back the scream that clawed at her throat. She usually didn’t have the luxury of time when she transitioned, but since she did this time, she took a few seconds for a deep breath, stretched her body, and flexed her joints before looking up at Clint.

“That will never not amaze me,” Clint whispered. “And I will never not be sorry for the pain you endure.”

Something clenched in Natasha’s chest and she felt stinging in her eyes. She tried to convince herself it must just be from the dirt in the air.

She grinned wickedly as she stood up and socked him lightly on the nose. He spluttered and pulled back from her. “What the hell was that for?”

It was hard for her to take his gruff tone seriously when he was forced cross-eyed in order to look at her. “Just thought I’d let you share in the pain.”

He stuck his tongue out at her before gingerly settling down onto the floor. She scrambled around and up onto his shoulders, checking out the table’s stability and the tangled cage of tree limbs surrounding them.

“Can you see a way out?”

“I think so,” she replied, pushing a bunch of leaves out of her way so she could see better.

“Then what?” he asked. “You’re not going to be able to move these trees unless you blast them. And not that I don’t trust you, but I’d rather not be under them if you do.”

“That’s the easy part,” she said as she walked down his back. “I’m going to take advantage of your dragon and get you out of here.”

Clint snorted and she felt him relax a little underneath her feet. She heard him mutter ‘such a pain in my ass.’ Then louder he said, “Well then. Hurry up about it. I want to see what kind of shelter we can cobble together from this mess and get some shut-eye.”

Natasha felt a flash of peevishness, hopped onto his butt, and stomped as hard as she could manage in her tiny form.

“Did you just … kick my ass?”

“Yes, and don’t think I won’t do it again when we’re out of this and I’m big again.”

Once she managed to climb out of the wreckage of the shack and fallen trees, it was a simple matter of resizing and directing Lucky to lift the debris and move it out of the way. She strongly suspected the dragon thought it was a game if the twitching of his tail was anything to go by. Clint was freed in short-order and they retrieved both the 084 and mini-lamp from the wreckage of the cabin.

Surprisingly, the lean-to was left relatively undamaged. They had to rig a couple of minor patches for the roof, but it seemed to be holding up against the still falling sleet. It wasn’t coming down nearly as hard, but still beat a steady rhythm against the roof.

Natasha warmed up the stones again and heated up the ground as much as she dared to try and dry it out. It was a tricky thing she’d found over the years, heating up moist ground. One ran the risk of steaming up the air like a dragon’s fart.

With the two of them working together, moving around each other in concert, it wasn’t long before they were settled in next to each other, leaning against Lucky’s side. She didn’t give Clint a chance to protest; she simply tucked herself close up against him, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, and willed herself to heat up so she could warm him.

He relaxed and turned toward her, pulling her closer, and she felt him exhale. Suddenly that overwhelming want for him washed over her again. She pulled back so she could look at him; he met her gaze and something in his eyes reassured her.

She reached out and pressed her warm palms to his face. He sighed, leaning into her touch. Gently, she tugged his head down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. He sighed again as she pressed another kiss to his temple. Another at the corner of his mouth pulled a groan from him and he turned to meet her mouth fully.

It was just a soft press of their lips, but Natasha felt the sizzle all the way down to her toes, flashing and sparking along her nerves.

They pulled back and she could see the same surprise she was feeling mirrored in Clint’s eyes. She enjoyed a brief rush of relief that she wasn’t the only one affected. And then they both swooped in for another, far more breathtaking kiss.

This time, Natasha’s brain shorted out.

This kiss was a supernova; passionate and all-consuming. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed as close to him as she could possibly get. One of his hands burrowed into her hair and held the back of her head. She lost all sense of time as the kiss went on and on and on. Something inside her that she didn’t realize had been empty and cold was filled with the feel and heat of him. 

Abruptly, something heavy landed on her legs, at the same time she was lightly swatted on the cheek. Both she and Clint jumped apart, tensed for some kind of attack, only to realize it was just Liho. The jaguar had lain down across them and was flicking her tail about, vying for their attention.

They couldn’t help but chuckle as the big cat squirmed and tried to muscle her way between them. Natasha pushed against her, but she just rubbed her face against Natasha’s hand and flicked her tail more vigorously.

Clint tugged Natasha closer to him, wrapping an arm around her and helped to gently push Liho away. The cat took a half-hearted swipe at his hand and half-chirruped-half-growled at them. She finally slipped off them and curled up against Natasha’s back, her face tucked under a massive paw and her tail curled around her. Clint stroked a hand down the cat’s back a couple of times before meeting Natasha’s gaze.

His voice was husky with want, but his eyes were uncertain as he asked, “Can we do that again? The kissing?”

“Yes, please,” she answered, and wasn’t even embarrassed at the pleading in her tone. “I’d like that very much.”

Their mouths met again and it was just as explosive and dazzling as the last time. They both lost track of time in the intoxication of the kiss.

\----------

It was late afternoon the following day when they finally made the rendezvous point for transport back to SHIELD’s main headquarters. After settling Lucky and Liho in the small converted hangar SHIELD had reluctantly assigned them for the animals and handing off the 084 to Senior Agent Coulson, Clint and Natasha parted ways for their separate quarters. Clint watched her go and fought the urge to follow her.

But it was more than clear that she didn’t want his company at the moment, so he reluctantly made his way to his rooms.

Clint shucked off his shirt and dumped it, along with his coat, boots, and gear bag, just inside his door. He’d have to take the lot down to the laundry, but not right now. Now he needed a shower, a hot meal, and a good night’s sleep. And before any of that he needed to clean and stow his weapons.

Yet he couldn’t make himself move, he just slumped back against the door. His mind kept circling around to Natasha and their night in the woods. The feel of her against him, her arms around him, her mouth hot on his. They’d fit and moved so well together; he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d mesh the same way tangled up naked in his bed. He’d bet his best bow they’d have the same awareness of each other and undeniable rhythm in bed as they had in the field.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair and over his face. He needed to rein this in. Some frantic necking, no matter how fantastic, didn’t necessarily mean things would progress any further. Natasha had initiated that first kiss, but there’d also been something a little tentative, a little hesitant about her. The next step would have to be on her terms. He didn’t want to rush anything and fuck this up.

A knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts.

He opened the door and was sure he was hallucinating, that he’d somehow managed to conjure Natasha out of thin air just by thinking about her. She’d changed out of her mission clothes, and was now in soft, comfortable pants and a t-shirt. Her hair was still damp and was curling as it dried. He wondered just how long he’d been lost in thoughts about her.

Her gaze flicked down to his bare chest and he was pleased when her eyes widened and she visibly swallowed. He stood stupidly staring at her for a long moment until she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice holding a note of teasing.

Clint mentally shook himself and stepped back so she could enter his apartment. Was he imagining it, or did she deliberately brush against him as she went by?

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered a bit. “Fine … everything’s fine. Just surprised to see you. Figured you’d be sleeping off the mission.”

“Not yet,” she answered. “I wanted to check on you first, make sure you were properly warmed up.”

There was something vaguely feline and predatory about the way she approached him and Clint swallowed thickly. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing the mole near the corner of his mouth. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to it, then another to his mouth.

He stood rooted to the spot, somewhat dumbfounded and still not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating this whole thing. Natasha pulled back slightly and smiled at him, “You’re sure everything’s okay?”

He just nodded dumbly at her, too engrossed in watching her to respond. He was lost in her gaze and helpless to do anything but stand there, mesmerized by her.

Natasha ran both hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Even though her hands were warm, he could feel goosebumps rise on his skin in the wake of her touch. She grinned wickedly at him, flicked his nipples and he jumped in response.

It jolted him out of his stupor and very suddenly they were both in motion, mouths pressed together in a wildly desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around her with every intention of picking her up, but she was already ahead of him and pressing into him to walk him backwards toward his couch. He bumped into it, sat rather abruptly and found his lap pleasantly full of Natasha. She straddled him and he pulled her closer.

They opened their mouths to each other, tongues roughly sliding together. Clint could practically taste the hunger in her kiss and the desperate little noises she was making turned him on.

She ran her hands up his neck and into his hair. He flinched at the unexpected heat in her palms and she pulled back, a worried frown on her face.

He tugged her back to him, peppering her face with kisses. “Don’t stop, Tasha, please don’t stop.”

He felt her hands leave his hair and missed her touch, but she more than made up for it by pressing her body closer to him and returning her attention to kissing the life out of him. He slid his hands up underneath her shirt so he could stroke and feel her soft skin. Jesus, she was hot. Not only was she the most beautiful creature Clint had ever seen, but she was _hot_.

And getting hotter. The heat radiating off her was almost more than he could stand, but there was absolutely nothing in the world that would make him let her go, make him stop touching her.

She was grinding down into his lap and Clint was almost painfully hard in his dragonhide leathers. He pulled away from the kiss and mouthed at her neck; she moaned and ground more firmly against him.

“So, good, Clint,” she murmured. “You feel so good, you make me feel so … ooohhhh.”

He gripped her hips and thrust up hard against her, making them both gasp. He met her gaze again as they continued moving frantically together, taking each other closer and closer to climax. Natasha’s eyes closed, her head dropped back and she let out the sexiest sound he’d ever heard in his life. He felt her shudder with orgasm and quite suddenly a quick blast of almost unbearable heat flared from her and for a split-second she seemed to glow. The heat and the sight of her sent him over the edge and he shouted out his pleasure. 

Natasha sucked in a couple of deep breaths, sagged against him and buried her face in his neck. Little waves of warmth were flowing from her and her breath hitched. He rubbed his hands up and down her back. Clint took a few deep breaths of his own. “Do you smell something? Like something’s burning?”

She hummed and shook her head but otherwise didn’t move. “I feel too good.”

Clint smirked and took a moment to let that sink in.

“Don’t look so smug,” Natasha sighed into his neck.

“Your eyes are closed,” he noted, “how do you know how I look?”

“I can hear the smugness in your breathing.”

That made him chuckle. But he still smelled something odd. Without dislodging Natasha from his lap, Clint looked around. He immediately spotted the source of the burning odor. On either side of his head, where Natasha had been bracing herself against the couch, were hand sized singe marks.

“Damn, Tasha,” Clint breathed. “If we do this again remind me to get some fire retardant sheets.”

She laughed against his neck and it sent a delicious shudder through him. “You’re going to need to get several sets of fire retardant sheets. But for now, let’s see if we can manage not to burn down your bedroom. I’m not done with you yet tonight.”

\----------

“Agent Barton,” Coulson said as Clint entered the Senior Agent’s office. “Take a seat.”

Clint slouched into the chair in front of Coulson’s desk, shifted uncomfortably, then sat up a little straighter as the tender burns on his back rubbed against the back of the chair. He made a mental note to pick up some aloe before meeting Natasha for lunch. An extra-large tub would probably be a good investment. They’d had to get pretty creative, but, minor burns aside, it had been a spectacular night. The best night of his life. And he’d been right, they’d meshed _extremely_ well together tangled up naked in his bed.

He quit fidgeting as he noticed Coulson studying him. The Senior Agent was a hell of a lot more observant than most people gave him credit for. Coulson stared a beat or two more before sliding a thick mission file across his desk. Clint picked it up and flipped through the pages until he located the maps. At the moment, he didn’t much care what the new assignment involved; he was more concerned with where they were being sent this time. After that last assignment he wanted to make sure they were going somewhere dry.

The sound of rustling papers made him glance back up at Coulson; he rarely did anything without an ulterior motive and had an understated flair for the dramatic that most people didn’t get to see. Clint gave him a questioning look, trying to keep a lid on the growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

“Maintenance dropped off an incident report with me this morning,” Coulson said as he looked Clint dead in the eyes. “They had several complaints last night; it seems there were some unusual thermal readings that tripped the sensors in one of the housing facilities. They reported highly elevated heat signature spikes on four separate occasions overnight.”

Coulson pinned him with a knowing glare. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

Clint could feel his face heating, but ignored it, tried to play it off. He certainly hadn’t realized that the heat bursts from Natasha’s orgasms had carried that far. He felt a surge of pride, but attempted to tamp it down. “I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

He almost squirmed as Coulson stared him down. After several long moments Coulson gave him a curt “Dismissed.”

He’d almost gotten the door closed behind him when Coulson said, voice bland as always, “Amethyst honey salve works wonders on minor burns.”

Clint just cleared his throat and nodded. “Thanks, I’ll try it.”

“I’ve also heard fire-sprites have a fondness for ice cream.”


End file.
